Not how interrogations are meant to go
by cip
Summary: Whilst waiting to hear what Earth plans to do with him, an expert is sent in to question Loki about the chitauri. Expecting interrogation, the trickster is thrown completely off balance by the conversation that follows.


**Not sure where the inspiration for this came from. A silly one-shot that's kinda cracky. **

**There is a cross-over character here, but I don't want to spoil the surprise as to who it is, so I'm not putting this in the cross-over section. Maybe if this plot keeps bugging me and I write more a sequel can be properly categorised.**

**Set directly after the Avengers scrap Loki out of the hole the Hulk put him in.**

**I own nothing (duh.)**

**EDIT!: I mis-numbered the surprise character and a whole lot of people noticed so I've corrected it :) Thanks for telling me guys! xoxox**

MWMWMWMWMWM

The cell was essentially the same as the last one, but built from concrete as opposed to glass. It was the perfect distance to pace across, but Loki felt that that was somewhat beneath him. Pacing suggested nervousness, and he most certainly was not nervous.

He was, however, very bruised and very sore. That infuriating _beast_ had been just a little more than he could handle, and his torn muscles were still desperately trying to knit themselves back together. And for now he wasn't going aggravate it all by pacing the cell for no reason.

So the fallen God sat cross-legged in the middle of the concrete room, facing the single door and security camera, watching the small black box unblinkingly.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

How long would it take for them to decide what to do with him? How long to make the choice between execution and extradition. And if he was sent back to Asgard then surely Odin would carry out what the mortals failed in and send him to his death anyway.

Cheerful thought.

There was a crackle overhead, although he didn't deign to look up, as the intercom was turned on.

"What is it now?" He pre-empted whatever was about to be said, trying to keep them on their toes if nothing else.

"We're sending in someone to speak with you." Fury sounded less than impressed. "You are to cooperate and answer all their questions."

"Am I now?" Loki looked down at the manacles binding his wrists and the thin chain that connected them, and therefore him, to the floor. "Well, as you know, I'm hardly going anywhere." The chain was more than long enough to allow him to pace the cell width, but he wouldn't be able to reach anyone standing in the doorway, and the Avenger's knew it.

"No, you aren't."

The God rose fluidly to his feet, chained hands infront of him. The movement hurt, a lot, but his expression remained blank. "And who are you sending in as your little sacrificial lamb, director?"

"An expert."

That told him absolutely nothing, and when the intercom clicked back off he didn't expect anything else to follow.

So, an expert. Black Widow again? Or perhaps Barton would be given a chance for revenge. And no doubt the man of Iron had some wicked gadgets that could be put to good use. Not Captain America, though; too many morals there, and Thor would never harm him if it could be helped. Or – and here Loki had to suppress a shudder – they would send the green monster in to have another word with him.

A lovely prospect.

With the captured God expecting nothing less than a heavily armed torturer to walk in he was almost disappointed when the door opened to show a young man in a tweed jacket. Odd. That didn't mean this newcomer wasn't just a less-then-normal looking soldier though, dressed to put him off.

Loki didn't bother to ask what the man wanted – why start the process off in a position of weakness? Instead he stood straight-backed with an indifferent and condescending gaze; after all, he didn't take well to being threatened.

As it was the newcomer didn't start with introductions or intimidation, rather he circled the chained trickster like a child at the zoo.

"Look at you, aren't you _fabulous_?!" He darted round behind Loki, hopping like a rabbit on caffeine. "Trickster God my arse! You're a Jötunn, aren't you?! Oh, _splendid_! A little short, but that's hardly a problem, is it? Large telepathic presence, although those bracelets are giving you trouble, and just _look_ at that magnetic field! I love how everyone here calls it magic! I bet you have far too much fun playing up that card!"

If a single word could describe Loki's expression, then it would be nonplussed. He stared at the man in utter confusion. "What-?"

"Snotty though, but that's royalty for you, I've never really held with royalty when they're raised to behave like they're better than everyone else." The strange man turned his back on the God and took a few paces away, before spinning on the spot to face him with one finger to his lips in thought. "I'll give you some lee-way on that though, I've met that blonde muscle-man who calls himself your brother and he's a bit full-on, isn't he? And not a blood relation, not even same species. Do you like apricots, by the way?"

The whole speech was so quick that Loki barely caught that there was a question on the end. "Do I like…?"

"Apricots. They're a fruit. Well, sort of a fruit. Like a fruit-alien-insect hybrid, only don't tell anyone, they aren't meant to know that. Do you like them?"

The trickster blinked slowly at the hyperactive man.

"If this is some new Shield interrogation technique then it is truly fascinating, but not going to work with me, I'm afraid."

Perhaps he was expecting the usual response of 'Oh everyone says that to begin with…' but instead the man looked genuinely shocked.

"Interrogation? As in _torture_?! No, no, no, no! I do not hold with _that_ at all"

Loki, God of lies, found that he could detect nothing more than the truth from the statement.

"Then _why_ are you disturbing me? I was told they were sending in an expert. I feel disgusted that they feel the need to send in a bumbling idiot like you instead."

"An expert yes. An expert in _aliens_; an expert in _you_, big boy!" The man had the audacity to pat the God on the back in emphasis with the word 'you'.

"And you agreed to this whilst knowing full well what I can do to you because…?" Part of him wanted to lash out at the irritating human, but a much larger part was amused by the sheer childish joy the man was expressing.

"Do to me? You're all chained up! Big bad powers locked away, the trickster God brought low." A sneaky grin crossed his face. "Or are you?"

In a single quick movement he whipped something from his pocket that Loki couldn't quite make out. The length of a pen and perhaps twice as thick, there was a green light shining from one end and it was this that the man pointed at the camera.

"It appears that Mr Stark is territorial, I'd hate to see what he'd do to you for playing with his toys." The frost giant's voice was low and smug as he stared up at the presumably-broken camera.

"Mr Stark won't notice. I've set it to playing a looped video and set a simulation running that will tell him the microphone is bust. They will have no idea what we will now say to each other."

"Intriguing." Loki's sly smile bloomed into a full-on smirk. "You'll forgive me if I sit down then? It's been a long day and if you _don't_ intend to torture me any time soon I have some healing I should be getting on with." He didn't care to wait for an answer, and instead just lowered himself gracefully back to his original seat on the floor. "A war is a tiring thing to lose."

"Oh, I know." The cheerfulness had gone now, a much sterner look crossing the young man's face. Without a seconds pause he sat himself down as well, mirroring the trickster's posture much to Loki's surprise. "Now. We need to talk."

"We do? About what, exactly?"

"The chitauri."

Loki leant back, resting his hands on the rough concrete and the chain grating on the uneven texture. "How unoriginal. I thought you said you didn't intend to interrogate me."

The man shrugged carelessly. "I currently don't give a damn about you. Not much anyway. Maybe a small damn. _However_, what I do care about is whether those things will be coming back any time soon. I don't want to know anything about them, or your motivations regarding them I just need to know _are they a threat_?"

"Ooh, depends." Green eyes lit with mischief at the urgent tone of voice used. "A threat to whom? To yourself? To Shield? To the Avengers?"

"To the planet."

"The _whole_ planet? That's a large jurisdiction."

"It's one I've walked for a long time."

Loki tilted his head to one side in question. "I know of no organisation that polices Earth in its entirety. Who are you to ask on its behalf?"

"An interested party."

"That's hardly an answer now."

"Why should I tell you?"

"It's at least customary to tell the person being interrogated who is asking the questions."

The man merely quirked an eyebrow at him. "All that great intellect." He said softly. "All those grand plans and revolutionary ideas, and you can't work out who I am." He flicked a hand at the manacles. "Why are you still wearing those? We both know you could be out of here in a second if you wanted to."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Do we now. Maybe I have my reasons."

"Who cares about reasons?" The man pointed the same lit object at the cuffs and they fell apart with a click. He smiled as the God stared at him suspiciously. "Now. The chitauri. Threat or not?"

"You are even more feeble minded than I first thought if you think I'm going to share information with you purely on the basis of returning a favour which I never asked for."

"Feeble minded? I'm extremely intelligent! More so than you I bet."

"Don't bet with me, I gamble with high odds."

The man grinned suddenly. "I heard. You seriously bet your _head_? I mean, I've done some really stupid things in my time, but _that_ was beyond the pale!" He laughed, but to Loki's surprise it was less mocking and more companionable, as if the stranger had _any_ inkling at all of what it was like.

"Dwarves strike hard bargains, and I talked my way out of it."

"Shouldn't have done it in the first place – even if you'd won he'd have cheated you. They're such sore losers."

_Ah._ Loki leant forwards slightly, studying the man closer than he had done originally. There were enough shields up around the cell to still severely dampen his powers even without the cuffs, but now he was at least able to sense things more clearly. Whoever this interloper infront of him was, he was interesting and far more than he seemed.

"Oi, none of that!" The stranger waved his hands in the air as if fighting away moths. "No poking with the telepathy! I'm unpokable!" He glared until the trickster banished the small probing spell he'd cast. "That was rude!"

"You have failed to identify yourself, why should I not try to find out?" Loki frowned, tilting his head to one side in thought. "You seem to accept on face value that dwarves exist, whilst also appearing to know a little of their temperament. You speak as if I'm a fascinating object whilst the recording device was working, but now act as if you've seen this all before. And you seem familiar. Who are you?"

"You haven't lost your touch, I see." A small, sad smile appeared on the stranger's face. "I am familiar because you knew me once, long ago. If your powers weren't being supressed I have no doubt that you'd have known me the instant I entered this room."

"We have fought before?"

"Oh, I never said that." He spread his hands out in the universal symbol of the unarmed. "I don't fight. No, you and I met long ago, when you were less bitter and twisted. Had a better sense of humour too."

Loki found that he couldn't help a small smile of his own at that. "I do happen to be the God of mischief. Surely my sense of humour is the standard that everyone else should be setting theirs to."

"Your modesty hasn't improved either." The man placed his hands in his lap with a grin. "So, you've got the clues; let us play a game of riddles. Who am I?"

"A most pressing question, it seems." The trickster steepled his fingers, surveying the stranger with a calculating gaze. "Can you tell me where we met?"

The man's expression closed off. "Skaro."

"Oh…" Loki's entire demeanour changed.

The haughty countenance dropped, giving way to disbelief and pure shock. Unbidden memories sleeted across his mind, of the horrors of the dark nuclear wasteland and its inhabitants. Of the years spent a prisoner in the deepest dungeons that even his own twisted creativity couldn't dream to create. Of the only creatures besides the chitauri who had ever succeeded in breaking him. And then of a man. A man who defied them all and pulled him free of the hell he'd been trapped in. A man he had then followed and made certain to repay his debt to over and over against the dangers that his rescuer seemed to attract.

A smile crept across his face.

"The last time I saw you, you wore a ridiculous hat, a tartan scarf and a jumper of questionable taste." The God bowed his head in greeting. "Doctor."

"Loki." The Doctor grinned widely. "Nice to be remembered."

"It is a hard thing to do without my magic and when you continue to change your faces how am I meant to make the deduction?"

The subtle tension and enmity that had been growing since the newcomer had entered the cell dissipated as the doctor began to laugh merrily.

"Nothing is ever your fault, is it?" He stated fondly.

There was no such thing as an innocent expression when it came to Loki, so instead he shrugged, before joining the laughter.

"Oh I have missed the schemes you get yourself caught up in!" The Doctor chuckled. "I missed _you_! What happened to you?!"

"You left me on Gallifrey!" The trickster shook his head, his grin wide. "The Master took the Tardis whilst I was still on the planet – I had no way of knowing where you went. By the time I'd scryed and found your destination you had regenerated and were long gone. Which face is this? Tenth?"

"Eleventh, actually." The Doctor ran a hand over his face. "Still haven't quite grown used to the chin." He jutted said chin out, then chuckled again. "So!" He clapped his hands together. "Chitauri. Are they a threat?"

"Yes, very much so."

The light of mischief and devilry lit the Doctor's gaze. "I was _so_ hoping you were going to say that." He whispered conspiratorially.

"Just like old times?"

"Ho yes!" The Doctor leapt to his feet, clicking his fingers as if on a caffeine high. "Loki Sky-Traveller, want to travel the skies again?" He held his hand out.

The trickster God stared up at him.

He could walk the paths between worlds, jump between dimensions like a child skipping over cracks in the pavement. However, he could not move through time the way the Doctor could.

He was powerful, a God, a demon and a sorcerer all mixed up in one. He could handle the chitauri without help – of course he could. They were so far beneath him that he'd have to lean down to spit on them, why should they concern him? And why should it concern him if they destroyed this paltry world at the same time?

But.

He could do it without help, but it would be difficult, most likely mean that he would end up injured and would be a colossal drain on his reserves.

Loki was not used to help any more, not used to working as part of a team. Even back in Asgard he'd let Thor and the warriors three sort themselves out in battle and went about things his own way. However, that had not always been the case and now that same _impossible_ man was back in his life and offering to help take out the chitauri.

And then, if he helped save the world that he'd initially tried to destroy maybe the Doctor would take him back and allow him to stop this whole mess from starting in the first place…

The trickster was thrown from these musings by a sudden thump on the door.

"Loki! What have you done to the doctor?!"

Thor, sounding furious.

The Doctor grinned. "Sounds like they found out the video has been playing on loop, then. Are you going to come with me? This planet needs saving and you're pretty good at that sort of thing."

The door buckled as Mjölnir came crashing through it, followed by Thor and Captain America.

Loki spared them a brief glance before grinning at the Doctor and taking the proffered hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

As the hammer and shield flew through the air in unison towards them, a familiar whirring filled the air around the two chuckling men. The look on the Avenger's faces as the reportedly indestructible items were sent ricocheting back from a swiftly materialising wall was priceless.

And as the Tardis safely ensconced him, Loki let out a sigh of relief.

Free.

The world at his feet, history to be rewritten and a friend at his side.

This was going to be _fantastic_!

_Fin_

**For all those who didn't get it, the guy is Doctor Who, a BBC character of extreme awesomeness. Skaro is the planet of the Dalek's (The Doctor's greatest enemy) and Gallifrey is the Doctor's own. The version that rescues Loki from Skaro is Sylvester McCoy's seventh Doctor.**

**Why would the Doctor and Loki be friends? Well actually, they have a lot in common I think, just the opposite sides of the coin.**

**Depending on the response to this there may or may not be a sequel.**


End file.
